1. Maybe to love is to expose your heart while it is still bleeding, hoping and trusting that the other person will press their hands gently against your chest and stem the violent flow.

2. Maybe to love is to believe in the unbelievable. To see the impossible abstractions that surround us, to have faith in the things we cannot see, to put our full weight on something we cannot ever touch.

3. Maybe to love is to show them our ugly, to see how they’ll react when they see how rotten and burnt our core is, and once they do, to wonder if they’ll still find it in them to say, “How absolutely lovely.”

4. Maybe love doesn’t exist. Maybe it is a mere social construct created to sell paperbacks and songs and pretty pictures and flowers and chocolate, deluding us to think that there is something more to…

Louis C.K. is often compared to Woody Allen (whose new movie he’s even starring in), but to me, C.K. is this generation’s George Carlin, a savagely funny comedian who isn’t afraid to touch on real issues. Carlin was something of a people’s philosopher, who just happened to swear a lot, and C.K. has touched on issues ranging from politics, environmentalism, consumption, race, class, education and masturbation, one of his personal favorite subjects. He’s also just about the only male comedian I know who deals with sexual assault well. Louis C.K. just gets it.

Here’s 55 of his greatest quotes, presented in no particular order.

1. You’ll be fine. You’re 25. Feeling [unsure] and lost is part of your path. Don’t avoid it. See what those feelings are showing you and use it. Take a breath. You’ll be okay. Even if you don’t feel okay all the time.

Hi. I don’t know you. But people are talking about you so much, that I feel like I know you, especially after hearing the specific details they are sharing. It sounds like you’re going through some really hard times emotionally, as well as really public conflict with other people. That blows. Seriously. I’ve been there, and there is nothing more gut-wrenching than hearing that people hate you as much as you hate yourself. In a way, maybe this is what you were after – some outside force to confirm for you what you already believe; that there is nothing about your life that is salvageable. There is no part of you worth loving. Bridge-burning and self-destruction are all you’ve ever known, and it does seem easier to just go along with this plan-of-attack. At least if people can’t love you, you can control them by other means. Lying, picking fights…

After years of observation, I’ve identified six discrete stages of pop song addiction.

Stage One: The Highbrow Scoff

This is the first — and most self-congratulatory — stage of the process toward full-fledged, seemingly irreversible addiction. A song comes on the radio, and — almost impulsively — you make that god awful scratching noise with the back of your throat — the same one Becky made in tenth grade when that new girl from Menlo sat next to Steven in fifth period and “had her boobs hanging out all over. I mean, seriously, is she that desperate?” The first encounter generally lasts no longer than 30 seconds, during which remarks are made about how the artist “sounds so processed,” and “probably sucks live,” and “has the trashiest lyrics.” If possible, the iPod is turned on, or a CD is played, and once Bon Iver or The National are on again you’re reminded that you’re…

Somewhere down the line, in the past couple of years, my life started to change. In a good way. The world didn’t change, but the way I viewed it, and the way I appreciated everything in it, did. I’d like to be able to say, yeah, I read some inspirational shit, or hit rock bottom, and knew I had to turn my life around, so I started doing this and that, and all those things that people advised about, and hey, look where it got me. But I can’t. Because it never happened like that.

I’ve heard so many stories just like that, interviewing students who have overcome multiple challenges in their lives to come out tops, get almost perfect grades, get awarded scholarships, and know exactly where their lives are headed. They’re like, 21. They’re standing at the welcoming threshold of an exciting decade that’s gonna see them go…

1. Laugh constantly. Laugh freely. Laugh at every moment in your life. Laugh when it is appropriate. Laugh when it isn’t. Laugh when it fucking hurts like hell. Laugh when the happiness escaping your throat is as smooth as a whiskey seven. If you cannot laugh when you’re beat down. When you are hurt. When you are two seconds away from inhaling a pain that will drown you, you will never survive.

2. Orgasms are by far, hands down, the best thing for your complexion. Don’t waste money on some ridiculously overpriced face wash. Lancome is a lie. So is Cover Girl. Instead, put your fingers to work. Go pay the thirty or fifty bucks for a bunny that’s guaranteed to get you off. Become comfortable enough with an individual to sleep with them on a daily basis. Just cum consistently and your pores will thank you.

1. Having friends who text you to find out how you’re doing when you’re going through a really difficult relationship moment. (You know, the texts you see while waiting for “your person” to text you, the ones that make you throw your phone across the room and hate your friends for trying to talk to you.)

2. The nights where you stay up late with your hometown friends, doing the same thing you always do, drinking beer and hanging out in the same places. The nights where you turn to each other and talk about how you can’t wait to grow up, and get out, and forget about this boring town.

3. Having grandparents who call you to find out what you’re doing, and are super interested even when absolutely nothing interesting is happening, who are incredibly excited just to be having you on the phone for a while.